motherhood

Another Mother's Day weekend has come and gone, and now we're back to real life. You know, the one where we're a little less super-hero and a little more janitor....and laundry washer....and human Kleenex....and mean mommy who never let's anyone do anything fun.

Yep, that  life.

And sometimes that life is hard. Sometimes it's very hard.

It seems like the kiddo whom we love so much will never sleep through the night, or in his own bed, or in pajamas that he doesn't pee all over. Again.

It feels like she will never, ever stop getting into everything, or hitting when she gets mad, or refusing to eat anything but peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. At least every now and then.

And we wonder if they will ever get along, or learn to truly forgive, or like each other. Even a little.

But there is something important I've learned over the years, although I don't always remember it....

Today is not forever.

The hard stuff of today will be a distant memory tomorrow.

It seems like the trials of today will never end. The baby will never sleep through the night. The toddler will never get over that cold. The preschooler will never obey cheerfully.

Then, all of a sudden, often without our noticing, the hours of sleep get longer, the runny nose slows down, and the discipline finally sinks in.

Because today is not forever.

And those issues that seem so life-consuming right now will pass, later than we wish and sooner than we expect.

Of course, there are two sides to that coin. (Actually, there are three sides, which I realize is scientifically impossible. Unless you count the edge. But that would be weird. So just work with me here.)

"And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up." (Galatians 6:9)

The opportunities will fade away, too.

On the flip side of the troubles of today moving on, is the fact that the opportunities of today will move on, too.

The chance to teach cheerful obedience, trust, humility, repentance, and forgiveness will not present itself in quite the same way again.

I remember so clearly taking my little guy's hand as he confessed and apologized, with quivering lip, an unkindness to his older brother. It was one of the sweetest, must humbling things I've ever witnessed.

But as time moves on, those moments are harder to encourage and even harder to learn. What wasn't easy then  is nearly impossible now. I am so thankful I had the opportunity to teach repentance and forgiveness to a young and tender heart, even though I'm pretty sure it was in the midst of a situation I would have rather done without.

And I regret the times - so many of them - that I didn't teach and train. That I didn't realize (or care) how much character would be required for the teen years. How much harder it is to shape a heart as the years go by.

Today is not forever, so I'd better use it wisely.

"Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil." (Ephesians 5:15-16)

The joys of today will be remembered longer than the troubles.

That's the third side of the proverbial coin I was rambling on about like an idiot.

I am convinced that life is made up of phases. I still experience different phases in my own life. Sometimes I'm great about cleaning and organizing, and other times, not so much. Sometimes I eat healthy, and other times I eat cake three times a day.

Okay, I don't really eat cake three times a day, but sometimes I wish I did.

Children need loved, disciplined, and served during their phases. They need us to be patient and kind and to guard their hearts and our tongues.

And they need to smile.

They need to have fun, and bake cookies, and eat cookies, and take walks, and go to the pool, and make crafts out of glue and construction paper, and watch movies, and play board games, and listen to the sound of their Mom's voice reading them good books.

They need memories. The good kind.

Because today is not forever.

This weekend, we took our family out to see a movie. I'm pretty sure the kids will always remember sitting in that theater, eating big 'ol boxes of candy that we sneaked in.

And I'm pretty sure they won't remember how messy their rooms were that day, how annoyed I was when they didn't carry their dishes into the kitchen, how they should have worked on homework instead of playing video games.

I won't remember that stuff either.

Our kids need to giggle.  They need to know we're listening when they talk.  They need a way to remember they are loved, even when they think they aren't lovable.  They need grace.

They need it today to lay a foundation for tomorrow.

Because today is not forever.

Shared with Rachel Wojo, Live Called, Christian Mommy Blogger, The Better Mom, Grace Laced.